Reincarnated
by evgrrl09
Summary: Love spans over centuries and many lives for two soulmates, but they are cursed to never be together. When time starts to run out before their inevitable deaths in the present cycle, the one person who can help them struggles to find a way to save them from tragedy. Morgan/Garcia romance. Lots of Reid. ***PROFILERS CHOICE AWARDS 2015 RUNNER UP FOR BEST GARCIA CHARACTERIZATION***
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **So here is my next story. This one will be very different from the majority of the other stories I have written. Like the title suggests, it deals with the concept of reincarnation. It will not be religious/spiritual in nature, rather more like a fantasy story. Also, Reid will be the third leading character next to Morgan and Garcia, something I have not done in a long, long time. I hope you'll enjoy this story!**

 **A HUGE shoutout to both CeeCee333 and ddgorgeous for all the help they have given me with this story. I appreciate it so much, ladies!**

 _1990_

" _Mom, you've been telling me this story since I was a baby," the eight year old boy complained to his mother as they sat on their living room couch. "How am I supposed to believe it?"_

 _His mother smiled at her son and ran her fingers through his hair. "You can believe it because it's true," she said simply. "But I'm pleased you're questioning this. You should always question everything. Find the answers for yourself." She kissed his forehead. "Now, settle down, and I'll tell you the story before you go to sleep."_

 _Her son huffed. "Do we have to?" he mumbled, sinking into his covers. "I've heard it every night since I was old enough to understand."_

" _Yes, we do have to," his mother retorted. "Because our family, and several others, is responsible for protecting these people. We're the ones who are going to save them." She kissed his forehead again. "In the beginning, during the height of the Ancient Egyptian empire, two people fell in love."_

 _The young boy rolled his eyes. "And they fell in love, even though it was forbidden," he said, raising his hand to mimic his mother's mouth. "One of the Pharaoh's wives fell in love with one of his guards, and when the other wife found out, she reacted jealously. She and one of the other guard members told the Pharaoh, and they both died."_

 _His mother raised an eyebrow and looked at her son expectantly. "Alright, then," she said. "Are you just going to tell the rest of it then?"_

 _He sat up straight and nodded. "I will," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "They both died, the jealous wife and another Pharaoh's guard member cursed them with an ancient Egyptian curse so that every time they were reincarnated in a new life, they would never be able to be together. The curse would kill them tragically, and the souls of those who cursed them would follow them through those lives to ensure the curse happens."_

" _Unless?" his mother prompted._

 _The boy rolled his eyes. "Unless they break the curse," he said. "But that's the problem, isn't it? No one knows_ how _to break the curse, even the souls who follow them because no one truly remembers their past life."_

" _The Order is trying to figure out how, though," his mother rejoined. "And one day, you'll be part of the Order. You'll help try to find a way to save them from the curse."_

 _Her young son arched a brow and readjusted his large glasses that covered the majority of his face. "How are we supposed to save them if we don't know the way to save them from the curse?"_

" _That's what the Order has to find out," his mother said. "When you're a part of it, you can try to save them."_

 _He scrunched his face. "What do you mean_ try _?" he asked._

" _Well, no one has ever broken the curse, not in the three thousand years since the curse was enacted," his mother said. "Three thousand years is a long time, and no amount of searching through history has given us a way to save them from the never ending these souls go through every lifetime they live. If no one has done it in all those three thousand years, you likely won't succeed either."_

 _Suddenly, her son sat up straight. Determination filled his features, and he said, "I will! I'll find a way to save them!"_

 _His mother smiled at him, moving a stray lock of hair from his face. She cupped his chin, feeling proud that her son would be so confident, even the face of seemingly impassable odds. Of course he would say he did not believe it at the beginning of the night. In the end though, he believed the story._

" _So now you believe it?" she teased._

 _Sheepishly, he pursed his lips. "Well, maybe I do," he admitted. "But I'm still going to find the answers myself."_

 _She nodded. "Just like you should," she murmured. "You're so brave, and you're so smart. If anyone could find a way to save them, I believe it's you." Rising from the bed, she pulled the covers up over her son to his chin. She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Sleep well, my love."_

 _He took off his glasses and set them on the night table. Before his mother left the room, he squinted at her. "Do you really think I could save them?" he asked._

" _I believe you could do anything," she responded, turning off the lights._

XXXXX

 _2004_

The young boy grew up.

Spencer Reid to this day believed in the story – something more than a story, though – his mother told him every night before he went to bed. He remembered his vow to her that he would save the souls in that story, and he finally had his opportunity. The Order, the families who vowed to follow through the centuries and attempt to save the soul mates of that original story, had found who they came back as and sent him to find them.

Now, he was in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, using his vast intellect he had gained over the years to help catch serial killers. He loved his work and being able to save people, but there were two people in particular he was most concerned with saving.

He prayed his mother would be lucid enough to understand what he accomplished when he saved the _amatoribus._ Since she was placed in the mental hospital, the only guidance he had been given were from others in the Order. They were good enough, but he wished he had his mother.

"Reid?"

Snapping out of his daze as he thought about the Blue Ridge Strangler, Reid looked to his unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, sir?" he asked.

Even though he did not smile, Reid could tell his new boss was amused with him. "You don't have to call me _sir_ , Reid," he said. "Just call me Hotch."

Reid nodded. "Alright, Hotch," he said.

"We've got Morgan coming over in just a bit to help us, and we're –" he started to say.

"I'm here."

Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan came up behind them with a cup of coffee. He held a file of photos, and he plopped them on the desk. "You ready to get to work?" he asked.

Reid nodded to his team member, one of the two he was meant to save. Before he glanced down at the photos, he caught sight of the curvy blonde in the corner of the BAU bullpen. Her back was to them as she rifled through a stack of papers.

Penelope Garcia, his two of two to save.

So far, Garcia and Morgan had not yet met, and Reid was still looking for a creative way to get them to unite. He hoped his friend would remember the criminal hacker they turned into their technical analyst, but with her hair a completely different color and a new wardrobe, it did not seem there would be a meeting unless one was orchestrated. He wanted the meeting between these two to be special, and simply introducing them would not make things unique. He looked back at the photos, knowing at some point they would need Garcia for something.

"Hey, what's that new tech girl's name?" Morgan asked as they continued trying to piece together a profile for the Blue Ridge Strangler.

Reid looked up at Morgan, and saw that he was looking at Penelope Garcia. Looking between the two, an idea sparked in his brain. He scrunched his face, feigning confusion. "Umm," he began. "Gomez, I think."

Despite desperately wanting to see how his work would pay off, Reid went back to looking at crime scene photos with Hotch.

"Hey, Gomez!" Morgan called out. He received no reply. Still, Reid did not look up. Hotch beside him silently observed the pictures, giving him a chance to listen, though.

Morgan tried again, this time with something Reid almost smacked himself in the forehead. "Hey, Baby Girl!"

 _Way to go with sexually harassing her, Morgan_ , Reid thought.

There was a silence between Morgan and Garcia before he heard anything else.

"Baby Girl?" she asked.

"Forgive me, I –" Derek began.

She cut him off before he could continue, though. "I've been called worse," she said, amused. "What can I do for you?"

So began Spencer Reid's journey to saving the _amatoribus_. All those years ago, Reid made a promise to his mother that he would save these two soul mates. Shortly afterward he made that same promise to the Order.

And Reid had every intention of succeeding.


	2. Metaphysical Forces

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Wow, I could not believe the response to this one! I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the first chapter of this story. It's definitely going to be an angsty one. Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope you'll enjoy this one, too!**

 _Present Day_

"One more shot, Baby Girl!" Derek cheered beside Penelope.

With a grin, Penelope took the shot glass from her best friend and downed it. The alcohol burned a path down her throat, but it warmed her belly, so she ignored the fire to relish the pleasantness of it. However it was her second shot of the night, and she planned on this being her last. She needed to drive herself home. The team was out for drinks after their particularly long case that just ended. Penelope was thrilled to be able to let loose and relax with her family.

And that was precisely what they were doing now: relaxing.

After she set the glass on the bar, Derek went in and planted a kiss on her cheek. "That's my girl!" he growled, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Penelope purred in response. "I'm just that good," she said.

"Hell yes you are!" he praised. He slammed his palm on the bar again and nodded. "Another!"

Shaking her head, Penelope giggled as another two shots were brought over by the bartender. Derek took one for himself before passing the other to Penelope. She shook her head.

"Nope," she said, her voice firm. "I've got to drive home. You go ahead."

Morgan pouted, but lifted both shots anyway, swallowing one then the other right after. She laughed when he slammed the shot glasses down and grinned.

"I'm the tequila god," he boasted, a small belch escaping his lips. He gave her a lazy smile before chuckling. "G-O-D."

Penelope smirked, patting his shoulder. "I'll take your word for it, tequila god."

Drunkenly, Derek dropped his face against her neck. Penelope let out an " _Oof_!" and patted her friend's back. "Okay, lover," she said. "You've had _way_ too much to drink." His arms went around her waist, and he hugged her. She smiled. Her best friend certainly got lovey when he was drunk.

"Oh, get a room you two." Kate Callahan came up behind them with David Rossi in tow. She made a fake gagging noise. "We didn't come out to watch you flirt like two drunk and hormonal teenagers."

Rossi nodded. "Nope, we came to drink!" He raised his beer in the air and clinked glasses with Callahan. She proudly clinked back and took a giant chug from her own beer.

Penelope leaned her head back against Derek's shoulder and shook her head. "Do we look like we care?" she laughed.

Shooting Callahan a sympathetic glance, Rossi leaned against the bar in front of them and sipped his beer again. "Try dealing with it for seven years," he snorted. "These two are the most platonic romantic couple I've ever seen."

Derek chuckled. His head fell against Penelope's shoulder again. He laughed uproariously, causing Penelope to smirk.

"I need another shot!" he declared, raising his hand in the air to flag the bartender down. "Yo, barman! Get me anotha one!"

Penelope shook her head at the bartender as he looked over. "Oh, no no!" she said, moving away from Derek to put a hand on his sternum. "You're not going to be getting _any_ more drinks. You're too plastered."

A pout formed on his face, and Derek shook his head. "Aww, c'mon, Baby," he said. "One more?"

She shook her head. "Don't make me get Hotch over here," she threatened. "He'll tell you to get your ass home."

"You takin' me home, Baby Girl?" he slurred with a laugh. "Gonna have your way with me?" He started to chuckle uncontrollably after that, like he had just huffed a tank of laughing gas.

Penelope patted his chest. "Nope," she said, not even blinking. "You're heading home to Savannah, and you're getting put to sleep. You're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning."

Callahan snickered before accepting another beer that Rossi had ordered for her. "Yeah, he's going to enjoy that pounding in his head," she laughed.

"Hey, don't be teasing him," Penelope scolded, fingering her keys inside her purse. She jingled them in front of Callahan and Rossi's faces. "My poor sweetie just needs to go have a few glasses of water and he'll be all better by morning." She motioned for Derek to put his arm around his shoulder so she could support him out the door.

Reid came up to them and laughed at Morgan leaning on Penelope's shoulder. "Garcia, are you going to be able to get him to your car?" he asked. "He looks like he might pull you to the ground if he falls over."

Penelope swished her hand in the air. "Nah, I've got him," she said. "Not a problem." She smiled at the members of her team in the vicinity of her and Derek. "Have a good rest of the night, my loves!"

"I thought I waz yer only love!" Derek protested against her shoulder.

Snickering, she placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Okay, honey. Whatever you want."

As soon as she had Derek strapped into the front seat of her car, she got in the driver's seat and pulled onto the road. Derek's head leaned back against the headrest, and his eyes fluttered shut. For a moment Penelope thought he fell asleep, but then he spoke.

"Ya know, Baby Girl?" he slurred. "Yer pretty damn special."

Penelope laughed. "Of course I am," she joked. "It's my wonderful, charming wit that makes me so appealing."

He wagged his finger in the air as they pulled up to a stoplight. "No, no," he mumbled. "It's – it's something more than that. It…"

His voice trailed off. Penelope thought for sure he was now asleep, but when she reached one hand over to poke his thigh, he grasped her hand. Her brows shot upward, but she made no sound.

"We've known each other ten yearz, but it feelz like I've known you _way_ longer than that," he elaborated. "Centuries, _eons_."

Penelope chuckled. He was more wasted than she originally thought. "Oh, Baby Boy, you are really, _really_ drunk," she cooed. "I'm going to tell Savannah to have a whole bottle of Tylenol right by the bed when you wake up."

"She'll just get annoyed with me," he slurred. "She probably won't listen to you."

Sighing, Penelope gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm sure she won't be annoyed, sweets." This was hardly the first time her best friend had told her his girlfriend had issues with his seemingly constant absence from their relationship. She could hardly imagine Savannah being too upset about an impending hangover. She was a nurse after all. She more than likely had a nurturing nature.

At least she should have one.

"Really, though," he babbled. "I really feel like I've known you longer than we've even been alive."

Penelope snorted. "Not possible, baby," she teased. "You can't know someone longer than you've been alive."

It was Derek's turn to laugh. "Maybe it is, though," he suggested.

They were quiet the rest of the way to Derek's home. She was almost positive he had fallen asleep this time. However, she still held his hand. His skin felt warm against hers, and somehow it comforted her. She had no idea why, but she could not let go.

Something, a force she could not explain, kept her skin against his.

Sooner than she wished, they arrived at Derek's house where he lived with Savannah. The lights in the living room were still on, indicating Savannah was still awake. Penelope parked Esther in the driveway and finally released Derek's hand. She went around to open the door and help him out.

He had indeed fallen asleep, and she shook him gently. "Wake up, Morgan," she whispered. "We're at your house. Time to get you inside to Savannah."

Derek snapped his eyes open this time and looked around. He grunted. "Huh?"

Penelope's lips quirked into a smile, and she pulled Derek out of the car to lead him up the walkway. When she got to the front door, she knocked softly. Within moments Savannah was at the door. When she opened it, she sighed in exasperation.

"Oh, dear God," she muttered. "You can't be serious. _This_ is why he couldn't get home until almost two in the morning?"

Smiling sheepishly, Penelope took Derek inside to the couch in his and Savannah's living room. She sat her drunk friend down on his couch, patting his shoulder in the process.

"Get some sleep, Morgan," she murmured, although it was clear he had fallen asleep again. When she straightened her back, she turned to face Savannah. She gave the other woman a smile. However, what Savannah returned was a look of irritation and aloofness. Penelope shifted uncomfortably. "Umm, well….I guess I'll just leave now. Have a good night, Savannah."

Savannah crossed her arms over her chest and nodded once. "Thank you for bringing my boyfriend home," she said, coldly.

Penelope, who always tried turning an awkward situation into something happy, gave Savannah a wide grin. "Let me know if there's anything you need tomor –"

"I won't need anything," Savannah interrupted, her voice staying in the same chilly tone. "And neither will Derek."

The smile fell from Penelope's face. She cleared her throat and looked at Derek one last time. "Well, alright," she said, turning toward the door. "Good night."

Penelope walked back to Esther, thinking back on Savannah's behavior. She hardly knew her best friend's girlfriend, but the few encounters they had made her suspicious that she was not a fan of Penelope. But as long as Derek stayed happy with her, Penelope could not find it in herself to dislike Savannah.

Sighing as she put the car into reverse, Penelope drove home to her own significant other. The whole way there though, she felt that strange pull urging her toward Derek again. She had no idea what type of metaphysical force this was, but she decided to blame it on her buzz.


	3. Dreams of the First Life

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Here's the next chapter where we'll be diving in to the past lives portions. The two "villains" of the story also show up in the past lives, so hopefully you'll see how they connect with the overarching story ;) Thank you for the reviews and readership so far!**

 **Note: These POVs for the past lives are not necessarily one hundred percent historically correct.**

 _Egypt – 3000 Years Ago_

 _The Pharaoh's Queen stared out over her balcony at the rapidly chilling desert sands. The sun had sunk below the horizon, painting the sky an inky black. She stared at the kingdom her royal husband ruled, a cold pit forming in her stomach. As she stood at the ledge, a hand fell on her shoulder. His fingers trailed down her arm until his hand rested atop hers. She leaned into him, sighing with pleasure as his arm wrapped around her belly._

" _Will you be sleeping alone tonight?" he murmured in her ear. His hand slid up her belly to grasp one of her breasts._

 _The Queen inhaled sharply as his calloused fingers tweaked her hard nipples through the sheer fabric of her gown. Reaching up, she grasped his hand. She held him tight, never wanting to be released from his arms. A fire lit up in the cold pit of her stomach, warming her very being._

" _The Pharaoh sleeps with another wife tonight," she murmured, turning to she could gaze upon her lover's face. He was a guard in the Pharaoh's personal militia, and no one would suspect any wrongdoing if they caught glimpses of him near the Queen's chambers. They would merely assume he was protecting their queen. "We will be alone."_

 _The guard lowered his lips to hers, brushing his mouth over hers in the gentlest of gestures. She felt warm in his grasp, looping her arms around his neck so she could kiss him back. She wanted to drown in him, to lose herself in another human being. The Queen hated being married to the Pharaoh. She felt no love toward the man she was bound to._

 _But the lowly guard who held her in his arms, she would be willing to abandon all her royal garbs and duties to be with him._

 _Yet she could not. There was no way they would not be killed if they ran._

 _Her lover pushed her against a column, their lips never breaking apart. Fire continued to blaze in her belly, forcing her pulse to go faster. A moan escaped her throat as he started to kiss down her jawline. His hands grasped her breasts, sending lightening bolts of pleasure through her body._

 _Moving her sheer skirt out of the way, he held her thighs and lifted her off her feet so she could wrap her nimble legs around his thick waist. He carried her to her bed, both of them falling backwards in the linens. They kissed with a feral passion they could not deny, even as they tried to stifle it._

 _As the Queen's chambers filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, a figure watched from the darkness. She remained concealed behind a pillar, her shadow appearing occasionally in the torchlight as she slunk between columns. Her eyes turned to narrow slits as she glared at the form of the Pharaoh's Queen writhing beneath her lover._

 _These chambers should have been_ hers _. The current Queen did not deserve her power, or the Pharaoh. The other wife pressed her hands to the stone pillar, watching as her royal husband's guard rocked his hips against the Queen's. They kissed deeply, a kiss so full of love and desire the other wife could see their passion for one another from across the room._

 _Clenching her fists, the second queen turned on her heel and stormed from the room. She was done watching this Queen defiling her body with that of the lowly guard. This would end now._

 _The Pharaoh would find out if the second wife had anything to say._

XXXXX

Penelope snapped awake at the dream. Something about a dark featured man making love to her. She looked nothing like herself – she looked as if from the Middle East, with olive skin and dark hair – but she knew it was her. And oddly enough, the man she was having sex with was…well, it felt like he was Derek. He looked nothing like Derek Morgan either, but a sense of being with him told her he was her best friend.

But why? Why did they look different? And more importantly, what had caused them to have sex? Her relationship with Derek was nothing like that.

Beside her, Sam remained slumbering. They had sex that night before falling asleep, so maybe the sex dream was a reaction to that. Only the fictional sex her subconscious had come up with had been even more mind-blowing than the real sex with her boyfriend.

Flopping back against the pillows, she stared at the ceiling. She wondered if she would be able to fall back asleep after this. Sighing, she turned to look at Sam once again, grimacing. Guilt filled her stomach. She should not have been dreaming about sex with another man, certainly not after just having sex with Sam.

Did this count as being unfaithful? Definitely not physical cheating, but certainly emotional.

"Jesus, Garcie," she scolded herself. "What are you getting yourself into?"

XXXXX

Spencer sat at his desk, chewing on the tip of a pencil as he did his morning crossword. He had timed himself at seven minutes yesterday, and he was determined to take it down another fifteen seconds this morning. His eyes scanned the last word, and he quickly jotted down the word. He halted his stopwatch.

Fourteen seconds less. He was pleased with himself.

"Good morning, Boy Wonder," Penelope yawned, coming up and sitting down at JJ's vacant desk. Their teammate would not be there for another half hour at least, so it seemed Penelope intended to spend some time with him. She leaned her elbow on the desk and huffed at him.

Spencer set his paper down and arched a brow. "What is it?" he asked. "You're lacking your usual sparkling nature."

She smiled at his description of her. "Aww, thank you," she murmured. "I'm just really tired."

"Anything I can do to help?" he offered. Anything he could do to help Penelope or Derek he would do. These two were the most important people in the world to him, aside from his mother. If anything he could do would save them in anything, he would do it.

Looking up at the ceiling, she sighed. "Well, I guess I just want to tell someone about this weird dream I had last night," she said. "I knew if I got here early I would probably run into you."

He gestured for her to continue, and she did. "Well, see, I think it took place in Egypt. There were pyramids and the desert, and the palace I was in looked like one you would see in a movie about it."

He gulped. The dreams and visions were beginning? This was a sign the cycle was starting. Could he really be running out of time, now, after ten years of fruitless research?

She scrunched her face up. "Alright, maybe it wasn't _me_ ," she said. "It felt like it was me, but she – or me, I guess – looked nothing like me. I think she was a Queen."

 _Yeah,_ he thought. _The cycle is starting. She's seeing the first life they lived._

"And see, there was this guy there, but he wasn't her husband," she went on. "And…" Her voice trailed off. A blush lit up her face, and she cleared her throat. "Well, they were in love. And that's about it."

Spencer knew what she had seen. The affair and sexual relationship between the Queen and the Pharaoh's bodyguard's was the event that caused the two tormentors to place the curse on them.

As Penelope continued telling the story, he nodded along.

"But what was weird was…" She paused again, biting her lip to contemplate her next words. "Well it just seemed like Derek was there, too." Her eyes widened and she looked at Spencer with a frantic gaze. "I mean, it wasn't like anything serious that I thought about, and I don't know why… but he was there." She laughed nervously. "It would feel weird to be in love with him, which is why the dream was so…weird. I mean, I could _never_ be in love with him."

 _Not true_ , he wanted to say. _You two are meant to be._

"Reidykins?" she asked after a long moment of his silent thinking. "You in there?" She waved her hand in front of his face.

"Huh?" he mumbled.

"I asked if you had any ideas about what this was," she said. "Anything my subconscious is telling me that I should figure out based on the dream?"

Spencer feigned ignorance. "Not a clue," he said. "Probably nothing to be honest. It's actually been shown that dreams really don't mean anything your subconscious is trying to 'tell' you."

Frowning, Penelope chuckled. "Wow, I can't believe I would think that it meant something," she laughed. "Silly me, right?"

He just smiled. _If only she knew,_ he thought.

"Morning, Baby Girl," Derek said, entering the bullpen. He went over and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. He grinned at her. Glancing up, he added to Reid, "Hey, Pretty Boy." Addressing Spencer was like an afterthought.

Penelope gave him a bemused smile. "What, no hangover this morning?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm surprised about that, too," Spencer observed.

Derek gave them a bright, cheesy grin. "Oh, I'm just faking it," he said. "My head is killing me."

Penelope rose to her feet and rubbed his shoulders. "Oh, my poor baby," she said, sympathetic.

As they droned on together, flirting and talking without taking notice of Spencer, he watched them. Derek complained of a headache, as if it were the most painful experience in the world. That could never compare to Spencer's concerns, though. If the cycle had started, it meant he was running out of time.

And to make matters worse, he had no idea where the souls of the two who had cast the curse upon them were. They could be anyone in their lives, part of the curse being that their souls would follow the souls of Derek and Penelope and be their downfall. Like his friends, these two would have no recollection of their past lives. Nevertheless, they would somehow lead to Penelope and Derek's deaths.

Spencer needed to find them. It was vital to his quest.

He needed find a way to break the curse. Fast.


	4. Late Night Phone Calls

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **So I hope you all liked the first past life flashback. We've still got a lot more to go with these various lives they've lived, so hang in there for these. We're gonna have to go through the discovery process with Reid to get to the resolution. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!**

Derek jerked awake on the jet. The team was flying back to Quantico from their latest case in Arkansas. Everyone slumbered on, but he felt oddly unsettled. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead, and he cleared his throat. He looked out the darkened window of the jet and yawned. As he thought back to his dream, he could not suppress a shudder.

Before he woke, he dreamed of being in chains. The hot sun beat down on him, and his whole body was in agony. A woman had stood in front of him, being forced to watch as a whip struck his back countless time. Her cheeks had been stained with her tears as she tried to release herself and screamed for the men beating him to stop.

His eyes snapped open the second a sword was brought down on his neck, and his blood seeped crimson onto the burning sands beneath his feet.

Rubbing his face, he rose from his seat to go to the lavatory. He stepped carefully over Reid's outstretched legs that protruded into the aisle. Once in the bathroom, he splashed water in his face, trying to rid his mind of the blood soaked sand. His mind shot to Penelope for reasons he could hardly explain. For some reason though, the tears in the eyes of the woman in his dream reminded him of tears he rarely saw in Penelope's.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Derek tried to calm his racing heart. This was not the first dream he had of the woman who had been crying. The first time he had seen her had been a dream in which they were engaging in an illicit affair.

In that dream, even more so than the second one, he felt like he was looking into Penelope's eyes.

 _Penelope is fine_ , he tried to tell himself. _She's at home, not somewhere unsafe._

He tried to tell himself Sam would be with her, and with him she would surely be safe. But he could not think that. Penelope would be more likely to be the one protecting Sam in any event that would call for protecting. Derek could not find any redeemable quality in Sam that made him think the man deserved his best friend.

Somehow, the thoughts about Penelope in relation to her boyfriend made Derek even more nervous. Without thinking of or caring about the fact it was just past two in the morning, he pulled his phone out and hit her speed dial. He just needed to hear her voice right then, even if it was no more than her answering machine.

After four rings, he felt like he would never get her on the line. But in the middle of the fifth, the phone picked up.

"Hello?" a man's voice mumbled.

Derek almost groaned. It was Sam. He must have been staying over that night. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "Umm, hi Sam," he said. "Is – is Penel –" He halted mid speech. He knew Sam might get territorially about him using Penelope's first name. He corrected himself. "Is Garcia there?"

"I thought you were on your way home," Sam snapped, suddenly waking up. "Why are you calling her?"

Before Derek could reply, he heard Penelope's muffled voice on the other end. He could not hear her voice completely, but even muffled he could still make out what she was saying.

"Who is it, sweetie?" she murmured.

"It's Morgan," Sam growled. Derek could still hear his voice clearly. "He wants to _talk_ to you, apparently."

There was a rustling in his ear as the phone was transferred from Sam to Penelope. Mumbled protests filtered through to Derek's ear, and he rolled his eyes as Sam fought Penelope every step of the way. "I'll be right back," she told Sam.

Derek waited patiently as she left her bedroom and Sam. His voice itched to escape his throat so he could demand to know if she was okay. But instead he waited for her to speak.

It felt like an eternity before he heard her voice for real. "Hey, Handsome," she yawned into the phone. "I thought you all were on your way hone. Why're you calling?"

"I, uh, I didn't know if…" His voice trailed off. He could hardly say it was because of something as irrational as a dream. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, "I just wanted…I wanted to see if you were okay."

Her twinkling laugh came through, ringing like a bell. "Oh, Morgan!" she laughed. "I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine. What made you call at two thirty in the morning?"

Clearing his throat, he leaned against the wall and sighed. "I don't know, I guess," he said, unable to form any coherent sentences. "I just…I wanted to make sure you're alright."

"You already said that, Handsome," she laughed. She paused. "Are you sure you're okay? You really do sound kind of off."

Clearing his throat, Derek rubbed his eyes. "I guess I'm just really tired," he lied. "Delirious after the case and stuff."

"Yeah, this was a rough one," she murmured. "You need some good phone to get some sleep?"

Derek chuckled at her teasing. "I don't think your boyfriend would like that very much," he pointed out. "He's pretty pissed I called this late."

She chuckled. "Eh, he can get over it," she said. "I've got two guys in my life, and he just has to live with that."

Yet again, something in the tone of her voice brought back some foreign memory that he knew her from somewhere other than this life. The ability to comfort him, and the sense she had always had some power over him took over. He vaguely remembered the drunken confession he had made to her the night she drove him home from the bar. Though he had been fairly plastered after the multiple tequila shots he drank, he had meant every word of what he told her.

He felt like he had known her all his life and more. This was strange because he usually did not believe in such things.

"I'll let you go," he said, reluctant. "You need your beauty sleep."

"You get some, too, Morgan," she ordered. Although he knew after his violent and bloody dream he was unlikely to get anything in the way of rest.

He sighed. "Goodnight, Baby Girl," he murmured, hanging up the phone. At least he knew she was safe, however irrational his fears had been.

When he walked out to return to his seat, Reid was sitting up, awake now. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at Morgan. "What're you doing up?" he asked.

Derek coughed uncomfortably, not wanting to admit he had just called Garcia in the middle of the night to see if she was okay after a bizarre dream. "Uh, just using the bathroom," he lied. "When you gotta go, you gotta go."

"Really? I heard you talking," Reid replied. "Sounded like you were talking to Garcia."

"What the hell gave you that idea?" Derek muttered. He should have known better than to ask that question. This was Reid he was talking to. Reid knew everything.

Reid blinked. "Well, for one you called her Baby Girl."

Rolling his eyes, Derek plopped onto the couch beside Reid. "Okay fine, Pretty Boy," he said. "You caught me lying."

"Why'd you wake up so abruptly?" Reid asked, arching a brow. "It looked like you were waking up from a nightmare."

Casting a dark glance at Reid, Derek nodded. "Since you seem to have it all figured out anyway, I might as well just tell you." He sighed. "It was really fucking weird. I was in the middle of some desert and some guy chopped my head off with a sword. Some woman was watching me and crying when it happened." He decided to leave out the first dream he had of the sex and affair. He did not want to ruin Reid's ears with his sex dream.

Reid merely stared at him, acting as if the beheading had not fazed him. "That's, uh, that's a weird dream," he said awkwardly.

Derek blew out a sigh. "Tell me about it," he mumbled. He leaned his head back against the couch. Shaking his head, he rubbed his face. "You know, I think I'm just gonna try to go back to sleep. We'll be back to Quantico in a few hours, and when I get there I'd like to see my girlfriend when I wake up."

So without another word to Reid, Derek rose from the couch and went back to his seat to try and get some sleep. Surprisingly, he managed to.

XXXXX

 _Egypt – 3000 Years Ago_

" _The Queen has allowed herself to be bitten by an asp," the Pharaoh told his second queen. "I intend to make you my new Queen, to rule at my side." He took her delicate hand and placed a delicate kiss on it._

 _The new Queen smiled. She told her royal husband immediately of what she had seen happen between the dead Queen and one of his royal guard. The now-dead Queen had been forced to watch as her lover had been whipped bloody and then had his head cut off. The Pharaoh had originally planned to just have his Queen whipped, but in her despair over the guard, she stuck out her hand and allowed the poison of an asp to kill her._

" _I am sure the gods smile upon our new union," she said, blinking innocently. "But there is something I believe we must do…to please the gods."_

 _The Pharaoh's eyebrows rose. "What do you speak of?"_

 _She went forward to wrap her arms around his waist had. She longed to be Queen so long, and now that she possessed that power, she wanted to utilize it. Kissing him lightly, she allowed him to pull her closer._

" _We must get revenge on them so they can never, ever be together in any lives they live after this one."_

 _He paused. "You mean…curse their souls?"_

 _The new Queen nodded. "If we cast the Kumdai upon them, we can follow their souls throughout the thousands of years that follow. When they consummate their union, their deaths will not be able to be stopped. And our souls will be the cause of it all."_

 _The Pharaoh stared at her with a blank expression. For a moment, the Queen feared he would reject her plan. But after a moment, his expression changed to a dark grin._

" _Let's begin," he said._

 **Let me know if you guys are seeing things in this chapter ;)**


	5. Nightmares

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Here's the next installment. Taking a quick break from flashbacks to their past lives for this one. I hope you'll all enjoy. Thank you so much for the kind reviews!**

" _Penelope," a voice murmured in her ear. "Penelope, open your eyes."_

 _But she did not want to open her eyes. She relished in the feeling of the hands of whoever it was touching her. Smiling, she purred softly. Her fingers trailed up the biceps of her lover. A sharp cry escaped her lips as his mouth fell upon her sensitive nipple. She giggled._

" _You taste so sweet," he whispered, trailing his lips up her chest and toward her neck. His tongue tickled her pulse point, and she grasped his face to pull him in for a kiss._

 _Opening her eyes finally, she looked directly at the face of Derek Morgan. She smiled, tracing his goatee with her index finger. His body hovered over hers, and she ran her hands up his back muscles._

" _Inside me," she whispered. She was desperate to feel his body connected with hers in the most intimate of ways. "I want you inside of me."_

 _He chuckled, kissing the skin of her throat. Penelope could barely breathe as Derek went in to kiss her deeply. She moaned as he pushed into her. The warmth of his skin surrounded her, and it became the only thing she wanted to know. As he moved above her, everything became about Derek and the comfort that came from being in his arms._

 _After they rode the waves of their climax, they lay together in one another's arms. Derek ran his hand over her breasts, gently placing a kiss on her lips._

" _I love you, Baby Girl," he whispered._

 _She entangled their fingers to kiss his knuckles. Before she could open her mouth to respond, though, a vicious, unseen force pulled Derek away from her. Her idyllic, dreamy wonderland turned sour and dark within the span of three seconds. Everything went dark as she tried to keep a hold on him._

" _Derek!" She let out a cry, digging her nails into his skin as she tried to keep him from falling away from her into the blackness that now surrounded them. He attempted to hold her hands to keep from falling. His eyes were frantic as he tried to hold onto her grip. "Don't let go!" she pleaded as she felt his fingers start to loosen around her hands._

" _I lo –" he started to say. But before he could finish, he was yanked away from her, falling into the abyss so she was left screaming his name._

Sitting up abruptly, Penelope looked around frantically. She needed to reassure herself that she was indeed in her own bed. A cold sweat had broken out over her body, and it had soaked her sheets, but she was safe.

Although she felt far from safe.

"Sweetie?"

Penelope's head jerked in the direction of the voice that said her name. It was Sam. He sat up beside her and turned on the light next to the bed. He arched a brow at her.

"What happened?" he asked. "What is it?" He looked down at the sweat-soaked sheets they were resting on. "You look like you've been crying."

Penelope cleared her dry throat, clutching her covers to her chest. She stared at Sam, blinking several times before wiping her cheeks. They were indeed streaked with tears. Shaking her head, she threw the covers off of her body.

"I, um, I just had a nightmare," she muttered, padding across the room to her bathroom. She flipped the light on and stared at her appearance in the mirror. She looked horrible, with her hair matted against the side of her face, her flushed and blotchy cheeks, and bloodshot eyes. How had such a beautiful dream turned into such a nightmare where her best friend was torn away from her so violently?

And why was she having a sex dream about Derek in the first place? It was bad enough she was having dreams of both her and Derek looking like other people and dying each time, but now she was having this weird sex dream involving him looking like, well, him.

 _What is going on with me?_ she thought.

A hand was laid on her shoulder, and she jumped. Turning around, she found Sam standing behind her. Somehow his touch made her flinch away. Something about him repelled her at that moment. She could hardly explain why, but something pushed her away from him.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he asked, concern furrowing on his brow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She certainly felt like she had seen a ghost.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, running his hand up her arm.

Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head vigorously. She could in no way tell Sam she was dreaming of sex with another man. "No," she whispered. "I really don't."

"Does it have to do with the dreams you've been having the past few weeks?" he pressed. "I've heard you talking in your sleep."

She cast a sideways glance at him. "Umm, what am I saying?" she gulped. She prayed she was not moaning or giving any indication the dreams were filled with sex and death.

Sam shook his head. "Most of the time it's things I can't understand. Hell, sometimes it sounds like you're speaking in different languages," he said. "But you sound scared a lot." Leaning forward, he planted a kiss on her lips. Her mouth turned wooden against his, and she turned her head to the side to avoid any more kisses. With a sigh, he pushed some of her hair from her face. "Maybe you should get some help, talk to someone?"

Biting her lip, she nodded. "I'll talk to someone," she said, absentminded.

XXXXX

Spencer leaned back in his chair at lunchtime, kicking his feet up so they were on his desk. He reached into his bag and pulled out the leather-bound journal he had received from his mother. In it were her records and notes she had taken on the lives of the _amatoribus_ from her years in the Order. Since her schizophrenia began to manifest though, Spencer took her place in the underground society, along with her notes and contacts.

Whereas Diana had worked with others to find them though, Spencer chose to work alone. He only asked for help when he absolutely needed it.

Thumbing through the worn pages, he studied the lives Derek and Penelope had lived before becoming who they were today. He knew these pages by heart, but something comforted him about seeing his mother's handwriting. His eyes scanned over the text about their original lives in Ancient Egypt to their lives in the height of the Roman Empire to the Second Crusades.

Each cycle began when the two made love, and then ended violently with their deaths at the hands – sometimes intentional, sometimes not – of their tormentors, the ones who cursed them.

It surprised Spencer immensely that his friends had given him this much time to try and find a way to save them. The sexual chemistry between them was explosive, and one hint of a spark on it would cause it to explode.

"Boy Wonder!"

Spencer's head snapped up at the sound of Penelope's voice. He arched a brow at her, and hurriedly closed his mother's journal.

"Hi, Garcia," he said, sitting up straight. "What's up?"

She pulled JJ's vacant seat around to sit in front of him. Her gaze remained intense as she stared at him. "We need to talk," she said.

Leaning forward, Spencer nodded. "Umm, okay," he said, feigning ignorance. "I'll do what I can to give you advice."

"Okay, so you remember how I came to you about that weird dream I had a little while ago?" she asked. "The one about the lovers."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, well I had one again," she said. "I need you to tell me anything you can about dreams like the one I told you about the first time. 'Cause I had one about those same two people. And we both _died_!"

Spencer tilted his head to the side. "We?" he asked.

Penelope's face paled. "I meant them," she protested hurriedly. "But that's beside the point. These are turning into nightmares, and I can't seem to get rid of them. It's turning into a problem because I'm waking Sam up when he stays over."

He observed her to look as if he was thinking about her problem. There was nothing he could do to help her stop the dreams until he broke the curse…or until they died. And Spencer was not going to allow that to happen. He cared too much about them to fail. What began as a quest to prove he was capable of doing what no one else had done before turned into a quest to save the two most important people in the world to him, after his mother.

"Penelope, I really don't know what to tell you," he said. "Maybe talk to a medical doctor about getting some sleeping pills. That would be my best suggestion."

Huffing, Penelope crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. She sighed and rose to her feet again. "Well, I guess I could talk to a doctor," she relented.

"Hey, guys," Morgan said, bounding over to them. "Baby Girl, do you have lunch plans? You too, Boy Wonder. You wanna come with me and Savannah to get some food?"

Spencer noticed as Penelope eyes immediately brightened with excitement. She rose to her feet and patted Derek on his chest. "What, Handsome? Don't wanna be alone with your girlfriend?"

Averting his eyes, Derek cleared his throat. "No, it's not so much that as it's I want to not be alone with her. I just really want to spend some time with you guys. Feels like forever since we've all hung out together."

It was obvious to Spencer his friend was lying. He seemed like he was on the outs with Savannah, especially since the team's last night out when Derek had returned to his home drunk.

"Oh, don't pout, Chocolate Mousse." Penelope leaned over and wrapped her arms around Derek's waist, pulling him into a hug. Spencer noted the relaxed state that took over the two of them, like it was completely natural for them to be in one another's arms. He wished his mother could see how close he was to the people they had spoken about all his life. If only she were able to be lucid everyday so she could remember the stories she had told him.

Morgan leaned down and kissed Penelope's cheek. "I never have to pout when I'm with you, sweet thing."

"Derek!"

The sharp sound of his name being called caused Derek's head to snap around. Spencer leaned around to see behind Morgan and Garcia. Coming toward them, looking none to happy at the sight of her boyfriend with his arms around another woman was Savannah. She wore an annoyed expression as she strode over.

Immediately, Derek and Penelope let go of one another and took a step back. Spencer tried waving at Savannah, but she shot him a withering look that caused his hand to fall right back down. He watched as she looked between Penelope and Derek, before finally staring at her boyfriend.

"Derek, I've been waiting fifteen minutes for you outside your office," Savannah griped. "We have a lunch date together."

Frowning, Derek looked down at his watch. "Savannah, honey, we weren't supposed to meet for another five minutes," he said, confused. "You said twelve thirty."

"Didn't you get my texts?" she huffed.

Spencer watched as Derek checked his phone and went to his girlfriend's side. "Sweetie, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I had it on silent."

As Savannah and Morgan left the bullpen, quietly bickering, Spencer exchanged glances with Penelope. She sat back down across from Reid and gave him a shaky smile. The tired look reentered her eyes as soon as Derek was gone.

"You wanna go get some lunch with me?" she asked after sitting in silence for a moment.

Spencer smiled, not even having to think about it. Putting his mother's journal in his messenger bag, he stood up. "Let's go," he said, offering her his arm.

 **Another past life flashback will be in the next one! Also, more from the significant others we all dislike so much ;)**


	6. Crusades

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **So here's the next chapter finally! Sorry it's been taking me so long to get chapters done. School has been INSANE. I'd like to give a huge shoutout to ddgorgeous for helping me figure out what action to add to this chapter. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you so much for the reviews!**

"Penelope, can I ask you something?" Sam asked as Penelope was swiping on her fuchsia lipstick on before work.

Arching a brow, Penelope turned around and gazed at her boyfriend. "Umm, sure," she said. "What is it, sweetie?"

Sam heaved a thick sigh. He seemed to have no idea how to approach his own question to her. "I never asked you about this when we first started dating, but what's your relationship with Derek like?" he asked.

Frowning, she shook her head. "I don't understand," she said. "What do you mean? You know he's my best friend."

"You know that's not what I'm asking." The look on his face reiterated what he was saying without him having to speak a single word. He looked at her, irritated.

With a sigh, Penelope put her lipstick's cap back on and set it on the counter of her bathroom. Why did every boyfriend she have seem to think there was something to fear from Derek? Men like Derek went for women like Savannah, women who were just like him, only in a pair of heels. So what was it about her, Penelope, that made all her boyfriends think _she_ would ever have anything other than a sexual attraction to Derek?

"You're quiet," Sam observed.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "And it doesn't mean _anything_ just because I am," she snapped. "There is nothing more than friendship between Morgan and I." With a deep breath inward, she looked down at her hands and the multiple brightly colored rings adorning them. She forced herself to breathe before looking up at Sam again.

Cupping his face in her hands, she leaned up to peck his lips. She gave him a bright smile. "Sweetie, there is nothing going on between Derek Morgan and I. Never has, never will be." She gave him a coy wink. "He's not lucky enough to get a chance with me."

None of her attempts at reassuring Sam could change the fact she had been dreaming about Derek for weeks now. She could lie to Sam, but there was no way in hell she could lie to herself.

Sam did not look convinced. He stared at her as she wrapped her arms around his waist, but he made no move to push her away.

"You have nothing to worry about," she tried again. As she opened her mouth to say more, her phone started buzzing. She looked down at the counter to see texts from Hotch coming in. Releasing her arms from around Sam, Penelope shook her head and grabbed the phone. "I'm going to be late if I don't get going."

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine," he said, annoyed.

Penelope breezed past him and gathered her things. She rolled her eyes at Sam not moving from his spot. She did not have time for this, or his petty jealousy. Her boyfriend would just have to deal with the fact she had two men in her life: one she was with, and one who she would secretly desire forever.

XXXXX

"Alright, superheroes," Penelope said, booting up the screen in the round table to give them the case. Derek watched as she squirmed at the sight of the dead bodies that filled the screen. "You're all jetting off to Haleiwa, Hawaii. Two men, native Hawaiians, have been found dead on beaches. Each of them were found with between thirty and forty stab wounds. Local PD says they have no leads, no suspects, zilch. There is no apparent connection between these murders, which is why they're having so much trouble."

Derek watched as his best friend gave the case details and the rest of the team bounced ideas back and forth. But he could tell there was something wrong with Garcia. He observed as she exchanged words with Callahan, but what they said did not reach his ears. He was too wrapped up in deciphering Penelope's body language.

"Alright, because this case will be such a long distance away, and the station won't be well equipped in terms of technology," Hotch started, "you'll be coming with us, Garcia."

Penelope's eyes went wide, and she nodded stiffly. "Alright," she said. "I, uh, I have a go-bag all set in my office."

Hotch nodded to them all, rising to his feet. "Wheels up in thirty, everyone," he said.

Derek watched as Penelope hurriedly sent a text and dashed from the room. He frowned, following her out of the round table room and toward her office. She had not seen him, and just as he reached her office, she had shut the door. He gave a soft knock on the door, and waited until he heard a "come in!" to enter.

"Garcia?" he asked. Her back was to him as she knelt down to get her go-bag from beneath her desk. She turned around at the sound of his voice. Straightening her back, she set her go-bag on the desk and gave him a small smile.

"Chocolate Thunder," she said in greeting. "What's up?"

He arched a brow. "What's up?" he repeated, going toward her. "What's up with _you_? You're acting strange as hell. Not like your usual sexy self."

Penelope laughed, a twinkling bell in the otherwise silent room. She shook her head and began shutting down her computers. "What makes you say I'm…" Her voice trailed off and she pursed her lips. She giggled and placed a hand on his arm, sending tingles through his skin. "Alright, you win, Mr. Profiler," she relented. "Basically, Sam came after me this morning, asking if you and I had been anything other than friends before I started dating him." She laughed and shook her head like it was one of the funniest things she had ever heard.

Derek blinked at her. Did the thought of them together make her _laugh_? He scratched behind the ear, giving an awkward laugh of his own. "So, uh, why'd he ask about us?" he asked, wanting to find out as much about the conversation as he could. Something made him desperate to know what made her laugh about the thought of dating him.

"Oh, it's probably just because he's a giant goofball," Penelope joked. "Can you believe that? Me and you."

Chuckling uncomfortably, Derek rubbed the back of his neck. Apparently she saw that as something to laugh at. He moved his arm back so she could not touch him. He could not deny this stung. Was this really how she saw him? Because he certainly saw her differently. When he thought about her, his pulse could start racing just at the idea of kissing her. Did she think if they were together if would be a _joke_?

"Yeah," he coughed, frowning. "Yeah, that would be, uh, something. Not sure why you're acting so weird because of that, but –"

Penelope's eyes went wide. "Oh, no no," she said, grasping his hands urgently. "Oh, Derek I wasn't saying that –"

He cut her off, releasing his hands from hers yet again. "I've got to go grab my things," he said. "We take off in twenty."

She sighed in irritation, making one last attempt to talk to him as he left. "Morgan!" she tried. "I'm sorry. I – "

But Derek did not stick around to hear what else she had to say. He felt too hurt, too irritated to listen. What was it about him that repelled Penelope? Women fawned over him wherever he went, but something about him just was not good enough for the likes of his best friend.

XXXXX

 _Jerusalem – The Crusades, 1184_

" _I don't want to marry that beast," the Baron's Daughter whispered, stroking the smooth olive skin of her lover's chest. They had found themselves in her father's stables again, nestled amongst the hay. In just a few short weeks she would be marrying the man her father had chosen for her to marry._

 _The Stable Boy looked over at her, moving a lock of her chestnut hair from her face. He stroked her cheek. Her skin still felt warm from their lovemaking. She was still as beautiful as the day he first saw her entering the city, fresh from her family's journey from their native France. He remembered looking up from his work taking care of the horses to see her riding in._

 _His life truly began that moment when he witnessed her that first day, the sun gleaming off her hair and making her look like an angel. He grew to know her and care for her with each passing day when she came to have her daily ride. Eventually her spirit became what he loved most._

" _We could run away together," he murmured. "We could leave this damned city, get on a boat, and no one would find us."_

 _She gave him a sad smile, shaking her head. "We would be caught before we made it to a port," she murmured. "My father is a powerful man. He has spies everywhere in the Holy Land."_

 _Rolling her beneath him, he pecked her lips before kissing down her jawline. "I want to marry you," he whispered in her ear. "And I know you want the same."_

 _The Baron's Daughter's hands roamed up his back as tears filled her eyes. A single tear trickled down her cheek. She shook her head. "We could never marry," she croaked. "You're Muslim, I'm Christian. We come from two entirely separate worlds."_

" _It doesn't matter," the Stable Boy murmured. "We love one another. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."_

 _She gazed into his eyes, seeing the love he held for her shining back at her. She felt comforted underneath his eyes, and she would rather spend her days living in the hay with him than marrying the richest man in all of Jerusalem. Running her hand up his back again, she pulled his face down to kiss him softly._

" _I love you," she whispered, never wanting to let him go._

 _They lay in the hay, kissing each other in the dimly lit stable. For what felt like an eternity they remained in their Garden of Eden. This hayloft was their forbidden bubble that once penetrated would shatter their lives into a million pieces on the desert sands. The Baron's Daughter rolled on top of her lover, pinning him to the hay. She wanted nothing more than to drown in him, to taste the sweetness of his mouth and never return._

 _As they kissed, the Baron's Daughter was suddenly pulled backwards. Some unseen assailant in a cloak yanked her backward. Gasping, her hands went to cover her breasts. The hands grasping her shoulders held her in a bruising grip, almost bringing tears to her eyes. In front of her was the Stable Boy, two more cloaked figures with swords attached to their hips taking him by each of his arms. He struggled against their grasps, but the men were too strong and forced him to his knees._

" _Don't hurt him!" she cried, trying to reach for her lover._

" _We'll do more than hurt him," a harsh voice growled from behind her._

 _The Baron's Daughter whirled her head around, and all blood drained from her face. It was her father. Somehow he had discovered her secret._

" _Fa – Father," she said, her voice shaking. All the heat once in her body drained away, replaced by a cold that struck her to her bones._

 _Her father removed his cloak's hood. His face was set in a stoic, iron glare that stopped her heart from pumping any more blood through her body. "You really thought I would not find out your secret?" he growled, going forward to her trembling form. He raised his hand to strike her across the face. His lip curled in a snarl. "You filthy whore!"_

 _Tears filled her eyes and blood filled her mouth. The strike from her father would leave a mark._

" _Let her go!" the Stable Boy roared, struggling even more against his captors' grasp._

 _The Baron turned from his daughter to the Stable Boy. "You'll be dead in a matter of moments, you piece of filth!" At the sound of that, the Baron's daughter let out a cry of despair. "How dare you defile my daughter? You've ruined her for any other man!" With a maniacal laugh, he nodded to both his knights holding his daughter's lover. "Your body will be hacked to pieces and fed to the dogs in scraps."_

 _The Baron's Daughter broke free from the knight to rush to her father. "Please, Father!" she cried. "Please don't harm him. I love him!"_

 _He shook her off and shook his head. "You know nothing about love!" he snarled. "This mongrel is inferior to us! He's not of Royal blood."_

 _She shook her head. "I don't care," she pleaded. "Please, just let us leave, and you'll never hear from us again." Tears poured down her cheeks, her face turning hot as she clutched her father's hands._

 _Once again, the Baron thrust her away. He pointed to the Stable Boy. "Kill him."_

 _The sounds of swords being unsheathed filled the space. Panic caused the Baron's Daughter's heart to race and adrenaline to rush through her veins. Her lover's eyes met hers. He said nothing, but she could see what he was saying in his eyes._

Goodbye…

" _No_!" _she screamed as the swords were raised._

 _Before the swords came down though, she rushed forward to her lover, throwing her arms around his neck to shield him from the impending blow. She ignored the orders of her father to halt in her actions. But it was too late. The knights were too late to stop their strikes._

 _In their final seconds, the Baron's Daughter knew their death was coming. Strangely enough, she found herself not caring. She was with her love, and though she was still terror-stricken, she also felt a sense of peace. Part of her wished she had time to say the words that she loved him, even if just for one last time. But she hoped the feeling of her arms around him would tell him what he needed to know. The Stable Boy's arms wrapped around her in turn, and they both held each other as the steel buried itself in both their necks._


	7. Making Up

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **My sincerest apologies this has taken me so long to come out with. Thank you so much for the reviews you have left so far. I hope it's still intriguing you, even with the infrequent posting. Let me know if you think it's still going well and you're enjoying it! Also, my thanks to PolHop for helping with the kinks in this one. You da bomb!**

Penelope snapped awake, a cold sweat covering her body. Her hand shot to her neck. She clutched her clammy skin, coughing hard. Humming in the corner of her Hawaii hotel room was the air conditioner, and she thrust her covers off to try and cool down. She glanced at the clock and saw it was four o'clock in the morning. In three hours she would have to be up and ready to work with the team on the case more.

 _What the hell was that dream?_ she thought, miserable. Her mind reeled with the memory of how the swords had crashed down on her neck and the neck of Derek. It was just like her other dreams, where he didn't looked like himself, but something deep inside her told her it was her best friend. Each dream she had made her more and more scared. No amount of talking with Reid seemed to help.

And there was no way she could tell Derek about this. There was no way she could imagine a conversation about how she was having sex dreams about him that inevitably led to painful and torturous deaths ending well.

"What's happening to me?" she whimpered to herself in the dark room.

A knock sounded from the adjoining room to hers. The abrupt rapping caused her to jump. She rose from her bed and padded over to the door. Without thinking, she pulled the door open to find Derek on the other side. Neither of them had spoken since her failed attempt at a joke in her office the day before. He had even made Reid make all the calls to her if they needed something.

Yet here he stood, gazing at her with frantic concern. "Penelope, what is it?" he demanded.

Swallowing hard, she rubbed her arms as if to warm up, even though the temperature felt sweltering. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"You were crying out," he said, arching a brow. "I wanted to make sure you were okay, seeing as you're in the adjoining room to me."

Penelope blinked several times, forcing herself to hold in her tears. But as she gazed at Derek's face, the memory of her dream resurfaced. It was so vivid she could almost feel the steel of the swords still against her throat. With a trembling lower lip, she threw her arms around him. She buried her face in his neck, choking on a cry. He was tense at first, taken back by the abrupt change in her behavior. But in a matter of seconds, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

"Why the tears, Baby Girl?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"I – I don't know!" she wept. "Things are just…I can't…" She held him tightly, her fingers curling into his soft t-shirt. Holding him this way reminded her of holding him – or the _him_ that was in her dream – in that stable put her on guard. This would have been when the swords struck them in the dream, but somehow she didn't care. She needed him and the comfort that came from his embrace.

Derek sighed and guided her toward her bed again. "C'mon," he whispered, "let's get you into bed and back to sleep."

She had no energy to resist, even though she wanted nothing to do with sleep. She couldn't bear to return to those dreams. As Derek sat her down and tucked her in, she grasped his hand before he could leave the room.

"Derek?" she murmured.

He moved a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "Yeah?" he asked in a feather soft voice.

"Stay with me." Penelope knew she sounded like she was begging, but she didn't care. She thought if he was with her, she might be safe from the onslaught of death that faced her every time she closed her eyes.

All Derek did was nod. "Sure."

The moment Derek crawled in beside her, she relaxed into his embrace. She felt safe wrapped in the cocoon of his arms. Eventually she allowed herself to fall in to the blackness of sleep.

Miraculously, the dreams left her alone.

XXXXX

Sleep eluded Derek for the rest of the night after his encounter with Penelope. She had been frightened out of her mind, and he couldn't figure any reason why other than a nightmare.

What could have her so rattled though that she would cry out in the middle of the night?

As the clock neared six in the morning, Derek observed her from his spot beside her. She seemed to have calmed down and fallen back asleep, but there was a tension in her body that kept her from truly relaxing.

Truth be told, he had only heard her fearful whimpers because he had been up after jerking awake from his own nightmare. The memory of the cold steel striking his neck and the neck of his lover would forever be etched in his mind. Why was he going through these dreams every night? Usually it was Buford who haunted him; now it was the death of Penelope and him.

Or at least the people they were this time.

Closing his eyes, he tried to banish the thoughts from his mind. He couldn't think about this. He _wouldn't_. When he opened his eyes, he looked at Penelope's back and tried to focus on her, anything to do with her.

Somehow, as he watched her, the conversation in her office returned to his mind. He couldn't pinpoint why, but it did. Had she really laughed at the idea of if they were to get together? What was wrong with him that she thought he was "undateable"?

Anger started to flood through him at the idea. He knew he shouldn't have, but he felt hurt by what she said. She was the most important person in the world to him, even coming before his girlfriend, yet it seemed like she thought they could never be more than what they were. That she would never think of him as anything more.

"Mmm," Penelope murmured, shifting beside him. She turned in his arms to stare at him. "You stayed." She blinked, trying to rid her eyes of the sleep.

Derek nodded. "You asked me to," he responded. He spoke slowly, trying to control his voice. He had no intention of giving away he was hurt by what she said. No one was going to know about that.

She smiled. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry I made you come in here."

"Don't mention it," he said, forcing a smile to his lips.

Penelope's face softened. "Morgan…I wanted to say I'm sorry again for what I said in my office," she said. When he tried to interrupt, she pressed her index finger to his lips. "You're my best friend. I just laughed about us being together because I can't imagine us being anything else."

 _I can_ , he thought.

Clearing his throat, Derek sat up. "It's okay, Garcia," he said. He gave her a small smile. "I'm going to go get ready to go down to the station."

Sitting up, Penelope stared after him as he retreated to his room. He felt her eyes follow him, but he ignored her gaze as long as he could in order to regain some sense of control of his emotions.

XXXXX

 _48 Hours Later_

"Garcia, do you have those addresses yet?" Hotch asked, poking his head into the single broom closet-sized room where Penelope had managed to get a computer signal in the tiny Haleiwa police station. The closet – that's what it essentially was – offered the best reception.

"No, not just yet," she groused. She clenched her fist around her pen in frustration. "I can't get a connection out here. And any time Morgan or Rossi tries to call me, I only get half of what they're trying to tell me! Why do unsubs have to work all the way out in the middle of nowhere?"

Hotch ignored her remark and started typing through his phone. "I need you to let me know as soon as you get –" His phone ringing interrupted him, and he promptly dropped his thought to her in order to answer it.

"What is it, Rossi?" he asked swiftly. Penelope couldn't hear what Rossi was saying, but the look on Hotch's face told her it was something serious. She stood up with worry, unable to stop herself.

Hotch nodded. "Alright, we'll be there immediately." He hung up without a goodbye and looked directly at Penelope. His gaze pierced through hers, and she covered her mouth.

"Oh, no," she murmured. "What happened?"

"I'm headed to the beach," he said. "Morgan cornered the unsub down there."

Uncovering her mouth, Penelope furrowed her brow in confusion. "Umm, okay?" she said. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost then?"

Swallowing hard, Hotch observed her carefully. "You're coming with me," he said.

Immediately, Penelope panicked. "Sir, I can't go to a crime scene!" she protested. "I would –"

Hotch held up his hand to stop her. "I'm dropping you off somewhere."

Now Penelope was even more lost. What the hell was her boss smoking right now? He was confusing her to no end. "Where are you dropping me off, exactly?"

"The hospital," Hotch said. His voice lowered as his gaze became sympathetic. "Morgan has been shot."


	8. Still Time

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **I really am sorry about how behind I've been with my stories. School has been so insane that I've had no time to do anything for myself (i.e. write). I really do appreciate you taking the time to review and read, and I'm so happy you're sticking in there with me while I take forever to update!**

 _ **England – The Reign of Henry VIII**_

 _The Highborn Lord rode up to the door of the quiet country cottage in the middle of the rolling hills. Night was falling. The sun painted the sky in pink and purple light. Frantically, he dismounted his horse and rushed to the door, pounding on it with his fist._

 _He had dressed simply in order to avoid attention from the country folk, and most importantly, any country gentry. His mission was one of great importance, but great secrecy. Should anyone tell his father of where he was, he would be apprehended and prevented from his mission._

 _His beloved needed him, and no one on this planet, not even the King of the British Empire would keep him from her._

 _Luckily, no one had noticed him._

 _The door opened to reveal a scullery maid, and she stared at him with dead eyes. He heaved for air. "Where is –" he began._

 _The maid opened the door wider to reveal his beloved's mother. She wore a simple dress, looking below her station, however low in the nobility she may have been. Her mouth fell open, but then it clamped shut. The light in her eyes turned cold, and she maneuvered around her maid to glare at the Highborn Lord._

" _What are_ you _doing here?" she hissed through gritted teeth. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, he was cut off. "How dare you come here! You are not welcome, not at all!"_

 _He shook his head. "I beg of you," he said with urgency. "I beg of you to let me see her. I heard a rumor – a rumor that she was with child. Please."_

" _You ruined her!" she screamed, stepping outside of the house. He instantly stepped backward, afraid he might be shoved backward. When he saw the woman's face, he could see tears shimmering in her eyes. "Her father exiled her to this house to escape the shame of what you did to her!" She shook her head, wiping her face in the process. Hatred blazed in her eyes when she looked back up at the Highborn Lord. "You knew you could never be married, yet you pursued her anyway. You defiled her with sin, seduced her…" She halted her speech abruptly. "May God damn you to Hell for what you've done to her."_

 _The Highborn Lord bowed his head. He knew the affair he had conducted with the lady's daughter had been wrong. But he was unable to release himself from Love's grip; it grasped onto him with a fiery passion that refused to unclench around his heart._

 _His heart had been stolen by a woman below his station. Though he wanted to marry her, his father forbade their union. Now here he stood, after nearly a year of searching for the woman he loved, he had finally found her._

" _I must know," he pleaded. "Where is she? Is the child well?"_

 _His beloved's mother narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Bitter tears rolled down her cheeks. When she retrained her gaze on him, she responded with nothing but a hoarse whisper: "She died in childbirth. Your_ son _was stillborn."_

XXXXX

Spencer rushed into the hospital after Hotch informed him Morgan had been shot. The moment he told Reid about the unsub being apprehended, but not without shooting Morgan in the shoulder, Spencer's blood ran cold. It felt as if lightening had struck him.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet. The dreams may have started, but the curse placed upon them would restrict both Morgan and Garcia from dying until they consummated their relationship. Being a profiler, Spencer knew it had not happened yet.

At the end of the short hallway, Spencer located Garcia. She was talking to someone at the nurse's station.

"Garcia!" he called.

Garcia turned in his direction. Her face lacked color, and her hands shook. She went forward to meet him.

"Is he okay?" Spencer asked, halting in front of her. He attempted to keep his voice calm. "What's his condition?"

Taking his hand in her shaking on, possibly to steady her own, Garcia breathed deeply. "He's okay." She gave him a shaky smile. "He's hopped up on painkillers right now, but the bullet went straight through him. They didn't even have to perform surgery."

Spencer frowned. "Why do you look so shaken up then?" he asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She patted his shoulder, motioning for him to follow her down the hallway. "Oh, I just was worrying," she said with rushed speech. "I'm also trying to think about how I'm going to yell at him for doing something so stupid! Just when he made me forgive him for our argument the other day!"

As Garcia led him into Morgan's room, where he lay with a drowsy expression on his face, she began to fuss over her best friend. Spencer allowed himself to breathe a deep sigh of relief. This bullet wound was nothing. There was no abnormality in the way this would happen. He had nothing to worry about for the immediate future.

There would still be time.

XXXXX

"Let me help you inside!" Penelope insisted in a snippy tone.

Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was perfectly capable of walking up the stairs to his house without her guiding him all the way up. But instead, he waited for Penelope to hoist his bags on her shoulders and gave her a smile.

"Okay, Baby," he murmured, indulging her in her desire to take care of him.

Penelope gave him a wide smile, looking pleased with herself that she had pushed him into letting her have her way.

The team returned from their case in Hawaii, with Hotch instructing Derek to take a week off to recuperate from his bullet wound. Derek reluctantly listened. He didn't have any clue how he was going to deal with Savannah for the whole week with no work to give him a reprieve from the tense situation their house had become.

"Give me the key," Penelope commanded, holding out her free hand. He opened his mouth to insist he could do it, but a stern look from her silenced him. Without a word, he held up his good arm in surrender before handing the key over to her outstretched palm.

She unlocked the door and went inside, plopping his go bag and her purse down on the floor of the foyer. He used his foot to nudge the door shut behind them and looked to the bowl on the foyer's table. Savannah's keys weren't there; he had a little while to spend with Penelope before his girlfriend got back.

"C'mon," he said, placing his hand on the small of Penelope's back to lead her toward the kitchen. "It's early enough that the Thai place we used to go to all the time is still open. Let's get some food."

"You buyin'?" she asked with a flirtatious wink.

Derek shot her a bright grin as they walked into the kitchen. "Anything for you, mama," he teased back, although it wasn't a tease. He really meant that when he said it. He pulled open the drawer that Savannah kept the takeout menus in.

"Savannah working the night shift?" Penelope asked while he searched for the right menu. She leaned against the island. The stance she had taken allowed him a view of her ample cleavage, her lily-white skin glowing under the lights of the kitchen. Beads of sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he forced himself not to stare at her. All at once his dreams flooded back to him, the ones where they were deeply in love even though it wasn't truly them. That sweat turned cold at the memory of his most recent death dream, though. This time it was finding out she had died giving birth to their son, and he had drunk himself into a stupor and drowned in a stream.

How could he be dreaming about such a wonderful relationship with Penelope, only for them to die before they could truly be together?

Derek shrugged, nonchalant. He needed to shake the memory of the horrible images that had been filling his dreams lately. "I guess so," he responded about Savannah's work schedule.

Penelope arched a brow at him. "You _guess_ so?" she asked. She studied his face as if to search for answers. When he didn't say more, her eyes went wide with realization. "Oh my god, you didn't tell her we were back!"

This time he did roll his eyes. "Nice detective work there, Garcia," he said, his voice a bit harsher than he intended it to be. He pulled the menu out and pretended to study it. "You want Pad Thai?"

She went around the counter she had been leaning against and grasped his hand, forcing him to look at her. "Morgan, c'mon!" she groaned. "Why are you acting this way with her?"

"Why do you care so much about my relationship status?" he growled in frustration, slapping the menu down on the granite countertop. "It's like any relationship, we go through rough patches like every other person on the planet."

Her eyes narrowed. "You have to talk to someone about this if you're not talking with her," she asserted. She gave his hand a squeeze and a tender look. "I'm happy to be an ear, you know? I went through something like this with Kevin when we were dating." She paused to look at the ceiling and laugh. "Okay, maybe that failed relationship isn't the best example in the world. You and Savannah will actually work out."

 _Will we, though_? he asked himself silently.

"What I'm trying to say," Penelope continued, taking his other hand, "is that you may be going through a rough patch, but you have to talk to someone about it. It's not good at all to bottle this stuff up. It isn't fun."

Derek looked into her eyes and observed the pure connection he saw in her eyes every time they looked at one another. She really did get him in a way no one else did. They weren't incredibly similar, but they understood one another on a level that transcended time.

As he was about to concede and agree with her, the sound of the front door opening broke them out of their stare. Penelope dropped his hands and moved away from him. Derek was damn near grabbing her hands back to keep her near him, but before his impulses took control, Savannah entered the kitchen.

When she came into view, her eyes were already narrowed. She looked toward Penelope and a sneer entered her face. "Oh," she said simply. "I saw your purse in the hall."

Penelope attempted to give Savannah a big grin, but it was to no avail. Savannah remained glaring at her. The smile dropped from Penelope's face, and she cleared her throat.

"Hi there," she said, looking evenly at Savannah. She nodded to Derek. "I was just giving Morgan a ride home because he –"

"He's home with me now," Savannah said snippily. "You can leave now." She went to stand by Derek's side, sliding her arm around his waist. He averted his eyes from Penelope's so he wouldn't have to see the look in her eyes.

Derek cleared his throat to avoid silence blanketing the room. "Wait a sec," he muttered. "Garcia was going to stick around for some food. We were going to order Thai." He glanced up at his girlfriend, staring at her with an intensity in which he had no plans to back down from. Savannah returned the stare, equally bent on her goal.

"It's okay, Morgan," Penelope cut in, her voice firm. Derek looked up at her, but she shook her head before he could object. "Sam is probably wondering where I am anyway since I texted him when we landed. I'll see you at work tomorrow." She gave Derek a sympathetic smile before waving to the both of them.

When the sound of the front door closing sounded, Derek turned to face Savannah. "Could you have been anymore rude to her?" he snapped.

Savannah turned to face him and arched a brow. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"The way you just treated Garcia," he growled. "You basically threw her out of the house."

Savannah's eyes narrowed. "She didn't need to be here," she said. "I'm home now. I can spend time with you now, and you don't need her."

"She's my best friend, Savannah," he said. "You can't treat her like dirt."

"I don't treat her like dirt," she insisted. "I just don't trust her around you. You're a good looking man, and I know women probably are all after you." She went forward and wrapped her arms around his neck before pecking his lips. "Every woman needs to know you're _mine_. Penelope Garcia included."

Derek stared at her as her arms snaked around his back. Without saying anything, he kissed her back before pulling out of her embrace. Somehow her arms around him didn't feel quite as right as the arms the dreamland version of Penelope.


	9. A Willing Sacrifice

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Hi, all! My apologies on the late release with this chapter. I have not forgotten about this story, I've just gotten sidetracked with other stories that jumped into my brain and the shitstorm of school. Thank you so much to all who have reviewed! I hope you haven't given up on this story :)**

Spencer was in a conundrum.

Weeks passed by, and with each one that flew ahead, Penelope brought him news of a new sequence of dreams she was experiencing. She told him of the different eras she saw, the eras she had lived and died through.

The War of the Roses, when they were on opposite sides of the battlefield as members of House Lancaster and House York.

The arrival of people from Europe to North America, when both lived as members of a tribe massacred by fearful settlers.

The American Revolution, where Red Coats set their wedding day on fire.

The dreams would never end, unless Spencer managed to find a way to save them. He was running out of options. There were few things he could think of to complete his mission.

Picking up his phone, he breathed a deep sigh before making pushing the number two speed dial. He put the phone to his ear and waited as the ringing began.

"Bedford Sanitarium," a voice said after the third ring.

Spencer inhaled before slowly exhaling. "Hi, this is Spencer Reid," he said slowly. "I'm calling to talk to my mother, Diana."

"Ah, yes! Dr. Reid," the woman said. "It's nice to hear from you."

He swallowed hard. He still felt guilty for his lack of visits and phone calls to his mother. "I, uh, I was wondering if today would be a good day to talk to my mom," he said. "I've got something important to talk with her about, but I'd rather she be lucid when I do."

"Well, you're in luck, Dr. Reid," she said. "Your mother is doing very well today. She's been having a shaky week, but today is the clearest her head has been. Let me get her for you."

Spencer was acutely aware he had mouthed the words "thank you," but no sound came out. He knew he shouldn't be talking to his mother about this; with her mind unsound, it wasn't wise to talk about things that might upset her. But he wanted to save Penelope and Derek, he wanted to save his friends.

"Hello?" His mother's voice broke through on his side of the line. "Spencer?"

Spencer forced a smile into his voice before he responded, "Hi, Mom. How are you feeling?"

"As well as I can being locked up in here," she groused. "You don't call me much, Spencer. What is it you need?"

His mother's tone was hard, but Spencer reminded himself it was just who Diana Reid was. He knew she wouldn't want to hear pleasantries and small talk, so he went right into what he needed.

"I'm close, Mom," he said. It was partly a lie. But he wanted her to think of him with hope, knowing it wouldn't be long before she wouldn't remember any of this conversation. "I'm close to finding a way to break the curse."

His mother was silent for a long while, and he worried she might have fallen out of the lucidity and back into the voices in her head. As he opened his mouth to say something though, she spoke.

"I see," she said. "Why are you calling me, though? Why not one of the others?"

He shook his head. "I don't trust them the way I trust you, Mom," he said. "You were the closest of any of us to find a way to save them. I need you."

"Well, I'll tell you what I can remember." She paused for a moment. "A willing sacrifice. I found it a long time ago, in an old journal of one of the members of the Order during the Civil War life. He almost succeeded. It won't be in your collection. That journal was lost when your father left me."

Spencer's heart leapt into his throat.

"A willing sacrifice," Diana said. "A willing sacrifice will save them."

That puzzled Spencer. What could that possibly mean? There were so many conclusions he could get to. There was no way he could get through this without more information.

"Mom," he said. "Mom, what does that mean?"

But the line was quiet. For a moment he believed she might be thinking on it, but when she spoke again, he realized he was so wrong.

"Who is this? Why am I on the phone with you?"

Spencer's heart sank. His mother was now lost into the recesses of her mind once again, her lucid moment gone before he could get his answers. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes, and went about the difficult task of reassuring his mother it was her son talking to her on the phone.

XXXXX

 _Gettysburg, Pennsylvania – The Civil War, 1863_

" _Do you think we'll survive the night?"_

 _The Union Nurse turned from where she stood, washing the blood from her hands, to find her Soldier standing there. Her back straightened, and she looked around him to see if anyone could see them. She loved her soldier, but she was a white woman in a time where she was not able to love a black man._

 _They lived in a place where their love was forbidden, even if they did fight for the Union._

" _I cannot say," she murmured, pushing her stray hairs from her face. "All I know is this battle has to end. Too much blood has been spilled this past day."_

 _Her Soldier crossed the small distance between them to cup her face in his large, battle worn hands. She relaxed into his touch, closing her eyes as she touched his hand back._

" _After this abominable war is over, I want us to go away together," she murmured. Her eyes grew misty. She opened her eyes to look at him again, taking one of his hands from her face to place it on her belly. "Us and the baby."_

 _His eyes grew wide, but then he smiled, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around so the skirt of her dress swirled about them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled, ecstatic even though everything around them was weighing upon their shoulders. Everything disappeared; the gunshots, the cries of dying soldiers, the crackling of campfires. It was just them and them alone._

 _Putting the Nurse back on her feet, the Soldier kissed her soundly, and she didn't even care that someone might see them._

 _Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded to him. "I love you," she whispered._

 _He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words escaped, the blast of a cannon sounded, erupting their world in a flash of fire before darkening permanently._

XXXXX

Penelope stumbled tiredly into work, rubbing her sore, raw eyes as she headed toward her office. She yawned heavily, fiddling with her keys as she searched for the right one. Nightmares continued to keep her awake, and it was beginning to not only affect her sleep schedule, but also her relationship with Sam.

He consistently wanted to have sex, but her lack of sleep, and the nights she awoke thrashing from fear, prevented them from being intimate. Sam's complaints made her more frustrated than anything, though. He thought she was just going through a "dry spell," but he was so wrong. Yes, she had strong desires to have sex.

She just didn't want to have sex with her boyfriend.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Penelope turned on her heel and glared at the source of the voice. Derek chuckled and went toward her, offering her a cup of coffee before saying anything.

"Has anyone ever told you you're _too_ cheery in the morning?" Penelope asked, pursing her lips as she took the cup of coffee from him. "You look like you're feeling better, though."

"I am." He shrugged, holding her door open for her so she could step into her office. She nodded her head in thanks, blowing him a kiss before setting her things down in a chair. Sipping the coffee, she shot him a grin.

"Thanks for the coffee, Handsome," she said, plopping down in her desk chair.

"Anytime, Baby Girl," he said. "Why do you look so tired, though? You look like you haven't slept a wink…in a really long time." He tweaked her nose.

Swallowing hard, she yawned and took another sip of coffee. She remembered waking up after the cannonball crashed into her and Derek in her dream, shuddering. She'd finally accepted that her dreams were of her and Derek; they may not have looked like them in real life, but it was how she saw them in the dreams.

Those dreams, those damn dreams, were what kept her from sleeping, but they also kept her from being able to look at her best friend normally. Now when she saw him all she could think about was the desire she felt for him inside her dreams.

She wanted Derek Morgan. She wanted him badly.

"Just having some trouble sleeping, that's all," she lied. She gulped, knowing she was going to start sweating any second now. His shirt was clinging to him in all the right places.

Derek's lips twitched into a smile. "Sam a snorer by any chance?"

Rolling her eyes, Penelope shook her head. "Just having some trouble sleeping, that's all," she said. She walked toward him, trying to move around him so she could turn on some more of her equipment. Nervously, she stumbled as she tried to move around him. Her jelly legs made her fall against him, though.

"Hang in there, you silly girl," he said, a slight laugh in his voice. He caught her easily, and his face ended up being only mere inches from hers. Her hands were pressed against his chest, and her breath caught in her chest. Sparks erupted beneath her skin at being so close to him.

She knew he felt it, too.

"Umm, I have to…" Her voice trailed off, but she had not yet straightened up to stand on her own.

He coughed. "Right," he said, moving her by the shoulders to help her stand on her feet.

"Right," she repeated.

Clearing his throat, Derek jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. "Alright," he said. "I'm just going to, uh, go."

And without a word, he left the room, leaving Penelope as confused and aroused as before.


	10. Wake Up Call

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Hi, all! Sorry for the delay in releasing more chapters of this story. As my semester is winding down I'm finding it harder to find free time in the midst of writing all my papers. However, I would like to** _ **try**_ **to post more regularly so we still have some Morcia in our lives (as you can see, I'm never going to get over Morgan's exit lol). Thank you so much to everyone who has read and/or reviewed!**

Derek shot awake at three o'clock in the morningin a cold sweat. He'd had another nightmare, this time in a violent warzone where he'd been shot to death.

Everything had been loud. A torrential downpour of rain soaked him to the bone as his boots trudged through sludge and muck of the trenches. Bullets zoomed in the air and explosions sounded as the earth shook beneath he and his fellow soldiers. The only thought in his mind had been the woman he loved, his wife who had been killed in a bombing from technology the Great War had introduced to the world.

What scared him was he didn't know _how_ he knew any of this. The man in his dream had not been him, Derek Morgan. It was someone who was a complete stranger to him.

"Derek?" Savannah said from beside him. She turned the light on, running her hand up his arm.

His eyes shot to her, his muscles tensing beneath her touch. Savannah took her hand back, her jaw hardening. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed his sweaty forehead and cleared his throat. "I…I need to – " He rose to his feet so he could stumble toward the dresser where his phone was. He turned it on so the light of the screen blinded him momentarily. Opening his contacts, he stared at Penelope's name.

He didn't know why, but for some reason he was scared to death something had happened to her. He had seen her just two nights ago, but he couldn't shake the lingering feeling that something had happened to her after the dream he'd experienced about them.

Yet, it hadn't really been them…had it?

Savannah huffed from the bed. "What? You need to make a call at _this_ hour?"

"Just let me do this," he said, gritting his teeth.

She shook her head. "You know what? Fine! You go ahead and call Garcia."

Turning around to face his girlfriend, Derek glared at her. "Don't," he grumbled. "Don't go there with me. She's my best friend, and I'm just calling to talk with her."

Savannah rolled her eyes once more. "You know? Why don't you just drive over and see her?" she said. "You spend more time talking to her than me anyway."

The two engaged in a fierce staring war before Derek finally got so mad that he nodded. "You know what? I think I will!"

Not even thinking, he threw on a pair of sweatpants and a hooded zip-up sweatshirt. He didn't even bother to put a shirt on.

Savannah rose angrily from the bed. "I wasn't serious!" she said, incredulous. She was barely able to move aside as Derek stormed past her. "Derek! Derek, where are you going?"

He turned around and arched a brow at her. "Where you suggested," he said, spinning on his heel to head for the door.

XXXXX

Derek strode up to Penelope's apartment, not caring whether or not Sam was home with her. He needed to speak to her.

Banging on the door, he waited impatiently for Penelope to show up as he pounded his fist against the hard wood. As he knocked, a door opened into the hallway, but not Penelope's door.

"Keep it down out there!" an elderly woman shouted at him.

He turned to glance at her, rubbing his tired eyes. "Sorry, ma'am," he said. "I – "

Before he could finish, the door opened to reveal a very exhausted Penelope. She squinted at him, unsure at first of who it was.

"D – Derek?" she mumbled. "Hot Stuff, what are you doing here? It's after three in the morning."

He couldn't say anything. His heart leapt into his throat, smothering his voice. What words were there to say that he was standing at her doorstep because of a dream where she had been his wife killed in World War I? How could he tell her that dreams and reality had ceased to feel different from one another?

Her eyes fluttered open enough that she could see him clearer. She grew concerned. "Baby Boy, what is it?"

Pushing her inside, Derek kicked the door shut behind them. He clutched her arms tightly, unconscious to the fact he was digging his nails into her skin. She raised her hand to his cheek.

"Derek, you're really worrying me," she said, trying to steady him. She led him to the couch to help him sit down. "You're not drunk are you?"

He shook his head, every limb in his body numb. Looking into her eyes, he blinked. "Are you…are you okay?" he said. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Penelope couldn't hold in a small giggle. "Baby Boy, you know I'm okay," she said. "You came and found me."

"I – I just…" His voice trailed off and he knew he just couldn't let the words escape. She would never believe him if he told her what it really was he had come over there for. So he lied. There was nothing else he could do. "I just don't know what I would do without you. You know that?"

She smiled. "Aww, thanks Sweet Cheeks," she said, touching his eyebrow.

Derek caught her hand, though, not allowing her to her drop it. Her palm felt warm against his as he held her hand, a sweet, ethereal heat he didn't want to lose. Both of them sat eerily still. Their hands remained entangled as time slowed down. He became aware of everything in that moment: the scent of her mussed up hair, the softness of her breath, her eyes brimming with wonder.

Everything became about Penelope.

As they sat in the living room, she cleared her throat to break the silence. "You need to sleep," she said. "Sam isn't here tonight. Why don't you stay on the couch? It's too late for you to be driving home."

He held her still, though. After all these weeks that stretched into months of nightmares of losing her – or at the very least representations of her – he had finally reached a breaking point. He never wanted to let her out of his sight. He wanted to protect her.

Without uttering a word, Penelope leaned against his chest and pushed them backward so they were resting comfortably on the couch. He knew she'd sensed what he could not physically say.

"Let's just sit here, then," she murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist.

He nodded, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Sounds good," he said, as they fell back asleep in one another's embrace.

XXXXX

Penelope sat with Reid at work, yawning in exhaustion. Both exchanged croissants as they sat in her office as he droned on about something to do with _Star Trek_.

"And in the final few episodes, Shatner – " Reid started to say before stopping abruptly. "Garcia, are you okay?"

Swallowing hard, Penelope nodded. "Yeah, I'm peachy," she said, unable to stifle a yawn. "Just…a little tired." She yawned midsentence.

"You seem more than a little tired," he said. "Are you still not getting any sleep?"

She shrugged. "Well, something like that. And Derek coming over at three in the morning only made things worse."

Reid's eyes went wide. "You're – Morgan _what_?"

Penelope laughed at his expression. "Why do you look like that?" she said. "You – " When realization struck her, she burst into a fit of giggles. "Why does everyone think Derek and I are hooking up? It's not happening."

He shook his head. "No, I…I just wasn't sure what you meant," he said. "Has – has Morgan been having problems sleeping?"

She shrugged. "Well, I'm pretty sure he's always had trouble sleeping, but he came over because of a nightmare." She smiled to herself, remembering waking up on the couch that morning wrapped under Derek's arm.

"Has he told you any of the dreams he's had?" Reid asked, leaning forward and wiping crumbs off his hands onto a napkin. Genuine curiosity lit up his eyes.

Penelope frowned. She had not quite understood Reid's fascination with her nightmares, but it wasn't until just now she realized it was somewhat odd he was so invested in what she was dreaming.

"Why are you so interested in what I'm dreaming about?" she asked, arching a brow.

It was Reid's turn to frown. "Umm, but I'm not asking about your dreams right now," he said. "I'm asking about Derek's."

She tapped his nose. "Don't play coy with me, Boy Genius. You know what I'm talking about. You've talked me through everything I've come to talk to you about. You _always_ want to hear about the dreams."

Reid didn't meet her eyes, but he took a nibble out of his croissant. "Just curious," he said. "You know me, I like hearing about people's psychological things."

Even as Reid spoke, Penelope still had the niggling feeling he knew something. Something in his eyes told her he knew something. She shook her head, questions burning in her chest.

"You sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she asked, pursing her lips.

Looking up at her once again, Reid met her eyes and held the gaze. She could clearly see he knew something.

"Nope," Reid said. "Just a genuine curiosity."


	11. Ambush

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **Here's the next one of this story. Thanks for your patience with me while I get it out. I'm in the middle of finals right now, so the next few weeks may be quieter in my posting world, but I'll work on it when I can. Thank you again for the reviews, and here's more** _ **Reincarnated**_ **!**

"Where are we going, honey?" Penelope asked, hooking her arm through Sam's as they walked down a DC street. She giggled and smoothed the skirt of her dress. When Sam suggested a date night, she found herself actually excited at the prospect. After several weeks of horrible nightmares of violent deaths and sexual longing for her best friend, she was ready for a night of fun.

Sam cleared his throat as he stopped in front of a nice Italian restaurant. He unhooked his arm from hers and reached for the doorknob to hold open the door for her.

"After you," he said, ignoring her question.

Penelope stared at him for a moment, but nevertheless went through the door. She smiled at him, unsure of what she was going to say at dinner. Sam was acting strange, and she couldn't quite figure out why because they'd started having sex again. She finally realized she couldn't go without sex as long as she had been. And if she wasn't going to be able to have sex with Derek, she was just going to have to resort to fantasizing that Sam was her best friend in bed.

"You alright, sweetheart?" she asked, glancing back at him. "You're acting a little…strange."

Sam finally looked at her again, smiling. She could easily see the smile was forced, though.

"Let's just get some food," he said, ushering her toward the maître de. They reached him, and Sam held up his hand in greeting. "Hi, we're here to meet up with some people. Another couple."

Penelope blinked several times, looking at Sam in shock. Another couple? Who were they supposed to be meeting? She thought this was supposed to be an evening for them.

"Ah, yes!" the host said. "The other part of your group is already here and seated. I'll take you to them right now."

Penelope shook her head, following after Sam as he led them after the host. "Baby?" she asked. "Sam, what's going on? Who are we meeting?"

"It's a surprise," Sam said, giving her a sweet smile. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, but somehow that squeeze did nothing to comfort her. She felt strange, like someone was about to ambush her with something she didn't want to hear.

The maître de led them to a table in the back corner, and Penelope's mouth dropped. Sitting across from one another at a table for four were Derek and Savannah, both of their noses buried in menus. When they appeared, though, Savannah looked up without any surprise on her face at all. She merely blinked.

"Baby, what are – " Derek started to say. But the moment he looked up, he saw Penelope and Sam. His eyes went as wide as Penelope's. He started to stammer. "Ba – I mean, Penelope? What are you doing here?"

"Enjoy your meal," the host said with a bright smile, oblivious to the tension in the space between the two couples. He bounded back off through the tables and disappeared.

Penelope pursed her lips, her eyes flicking between Sam and Derek. She finally settled to stare at Sam and Savannah. This had been a set up. All the proof she needed of that was Sam going to sit beside Savannah, neither of them questioning the other.

"What's going on?" Penelope asked, not sitting down yet.

Derek glanced between Sam and Savannah. "That's what I want to know," he said, a slight growl in his voice. "Any reason neither of you decided to tell us that we were going on a double date tonight?"

They said nothing for a moment, both merely watching Derek and Penelope through narrowed slits. Exasperated, Penelope sat down beside Derek and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I can't believe this," she groaned. "You both actually look mad at us! We're the ones who got pulled into something we weren't aware we were walking into!" Savannah shot her a look cool enough to chill the temperature in the whole room. Penelope had seen her glare mighty fierce before, but this was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Feeling a streak of irritation course through her, she narrowed her eyes at Savannah. "What? What did I do this time? I know you don't like me for some reason, but I'm still your boyfriend's friend, so – "

Savannah cut her off. "See, that's what I'm not sure about," she said. Her voice came out sharp and frigid as steel.

"Excuse me?" Penelope said, taken aback. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

Derek frowned. "I'm kind of wondering the same thing."

Huffing, Sam rolled his eyes before saying, "Don't try and pretend you know we haven't caught you two."

"What the hell are you both talking about?" Penelope asked, exasperated. She was ready to throw her hands up in the air and allow her voice to rise.

"You're sleeping with my boyfriend!" Savannah snapped. "That's what we're talking about!"

Penelope's mouth dropped. Rarely was she shocked to the point of speechlessness, but this was one of those times. She looked over at Derek, stunned. He looked as annoyed as she did.

"Are you both insane?" Derek asked, finally breaking the silence. His hands clenched into tight fists. "You think we're having an _affair_?"

Sam laughed sharply. "Don't even," he said. "We both know what's been going on."

"What the hell makes you think that we're sleeping together?" Penelope demanded.

Savannah rolled her eyes. "When a woman's boyfriend runs out of their apartment in the middle of the night to go to another woman's house, there's something going on!"

"Nothing is going on between Derek and I!" Penelope said.

Derek put a hand on her arm. "We don't have to explain anything to these two," he grumbled. "We didn't do anything wrong. They're acting like we've cheated on them when we haven't."

"This is exactly what we're talking about!" Sam said, pointing at Derek's hand still on Penelope's arm. "You're both cheating on us, and you're trying to lie about it in front of our faces!"

An unconscious prickling started behind Penelope's eyes. The look of hatred from Savannah, and even the one on Sam's face, stung. Did they really think she would do this? Did they really think Derek _and_ she would do this?

"What the hell is wrong with you both?" Penelope asked, her voice cracking. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Why do you think we would do that to you? I have no idea what you want us to do. We're friends! We've been friends since before we started dating you both."

"Don't try and act like – " Sam started to say.

Derek cut him off. "Shut the fuck up, Sam!" he growled. He glanced over at Penelope, resting his hand on her back. She sniffled, but looking at him made her feel safer, like she didn't need to feel attacked. When he looked back at Sam and Savannah, his expression darkened once more. "Both of you need to get something straight: neither of us are having an affair. Not with any one else, not with each other. For you to accuse of this is the worst fucking thing you could've done."

Savannah glared at him. "You would think the same thing as we are if you saw you both," she hissed. "And let's not forget that you've been calling out her name when you're sleeping! Sam says _you've_ been doing it, too! Between you both acting like zombies during the day and talking gibberish when you're asleep, the one thing we _know_ you're saying are each other's names! So stop telling us the two of you aren't fucking one another behind our backs!"

Both of them were quiet, knowing that even though they had not physically cheated, their significant others were right. Penelope's lower lip trembled. Wringing her hands together, she shook her head. She couldn't sit here anymore, not when it was obvious to everyone that she was in love with Derek and she was getting accused of things she would never do.

Rising to her feet again, she shook her head. "I'm not sure I'm going to stay here," she said. "I _can't_ stay here. I'm…I'm going to just call for a ride…" She pulled out her phone, ready to call a cab. She took one last look at Savannah and Sam, feeling not only humiliated but also sorry she hurt them.

Derek rose with her. "No," he said. "You're not going to call for a ride. I'm driving you home."

"Of course," Sam snarled. "I think it's safe to say we're over, Penelope."

Penelope rolled her eyes finally. "Yeah. I think it's safe to say that, too," she said, wiping her eyes. Looking away from her ex-boyfriend, Penelope's eyes found Derek's. "Please get me home."

"Yeah," he said, putting an arm around her waist. "Let's go."


End file.
